


Use Your Words

by shlynn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Almost Sex, Angry Sex, Clothed Sex, Fluff, M/M, PWP, Sexual Tension, Underage Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:22:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shlynn/pseuds/shlynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles barely scrape themselves out of a typical Saturday night mess. Derek is frustrated and Stiles is annoying and there's a wall and a lot of growling and Stiles comes in his pants. PWP, basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Use Your Words

**Author's Note:**

> I will freely admit that I don't actually watch Teen Wolf, bahaha. I'm just here for the smut. Originally written for anonymous submission to a friend's blog. So basically, Tumblr made me do it.

“Well, that was… fun,” Stiles pants, wiping sweat from his brow with the heel of his hand. He leans against the brick wall of the school to catch his breath. “Then again it’s getting to be a typical Saturday night for us, huh, running for our lives and all…”

Derek, bent double in front of him, lets out a growl.

“Well, generally I agree with you there,” Stiles nods his head sagely. “Although I recommend using actual words to communicate your perpetual frustration with life, seeing as how not everyone is as versed as I am in pissy werewolf -“

In the next second, Derek’s got him pinned bodily to the wall, his forearm braced across Stiles’ shoulders. Derek snarls and Stiles’ last words dissolve into a squeak.

“H-hey now, what did I just say? _Words_ , Derek, use your words,” he squirms under Derek’s iron grip, vehemently avoiding eye contact.

Derek rumbles out another growl, lower this time, and Stiles freezes and stands pin-straight against the wall. Their chests are still heaving from their recent debacle but Derek’s hold across his chest is at least allowing Stiles to breathe. Well, it’s the little things.

Stiles glances up, hoping maybe Derek’s got all that pent up aggression out of his system. It’s a mistake. It’s a trap. He catches a glimpse of red orbs and can’t look away. Derek waits a beat, staring intently. And then he pounces.

At first, Stiles isn’t even sure it’s a kiss. He feels like he’s being _devoured_. Derek is all teeth and tongue, still growling as he presses into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles lets out a noise that he swears is supposed to be surprise, but it comes out more like a breathy whine and his hands fly up to grip Derek’s forearm against his chest.

If Derek lets go now, Stiles isn’t sure his legs will support him.

He tries to kiss Derek back, he really does, but as soon as he gives Derek even the slightest response Derek becomes even more enthusiastic, slipping his free arm under the back of Stiles’ shirt to scrape mostly human nails along the skin he finds there. Stiles shudders and Derek presses his body close to absorb it, caging Stiles up against the wall.

In general, Stiles has very little control of what comes out of his mouth, but this really does take the cake. He tries to stifle the embarrassing sounds he’s making, he really does, but he can barely coordinate himself enough to stop from frantically bucking his hips forward when Derek has their bodies pressed flush together.

When Derek unlatches his mouth from Stiles’ with a snarl, it takes Stiles a minute to realize he needs air. A lot of it. He gasps for breath as Derek starts up a fresh attack on Stiles’ neck, his chest rumbling low and vibrating through Stiles’ entire body.

“Hah, ah - okay. Okay, wait, _wait_ -“

Derek is on his mouth again then, perhaps to shut him up, but it doesn’t really work when he’s grinding his hips up against Stiles’ and Stiles just moans - okay, _that_ was a moan, Stiles can admit that that was a moan - into Derek’s mouth.

Then Derek is back at Stiles’ neck and Stiles’ hand flies into Derek’s hair and his leg comes up as Derek ruts him into the wall and he’s going to - okay, wait wait WAIT -

“Derek -” he tries, but then there’s a scrape of nails on his back and teeth at his neck just as Derek stops and latches on and SUCKS -

Stiles is going to die. He is going to fucking _die_.

Because the minute he comes back to himself, he’s leaning against the wall on wobbly legs that can barely support him without the help of Derek. Derek, who is standing in front of him looking more out of breath than Stiles has ever seen him, and oh god Stiles just came in his pants, he is going to die, can he please just die -

Derek clears his throat and doesn’t look at him.

“When I tell you to wait somewhere,” he says slowly, his voice gravelly and thick, “You _wait_. You don’t go running in anyway. Just - just listen to me. Wait.”

There’s a beat before Derek looks over at him again, eyes neutral, and Stiles feels a terrible heat creep into his face as he nods dumbly.

The corners of Derek’s mouth turn up just slightly, and almost too quietly for Stiles to hear, he says,

“Good boy.”

Stiles snorts at that, because he has to, because he’s so fucking embarrassed and he’s still not dead yet and if that’s all that this was about then he might as well just give up on his _life_.

Before he can even think, his mouth is spewing,

“I changed my mind. I like it better when you don’t use words.”

He’s mortified for a minute, and why can’t he just DIE already -

“Me too.”


End file.
